Farewell, Eleníel
by Warriormaid
Summary: Boromir left somebody behind in Minas Tirith. He promised her that he would come back, but he doesn't. T to be safe. It's short and angsty. Boromir/OC
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer: * does not own LotR***

**Warning: Character death! (fully canon – Boromir)**

**Author's Note: Well, not sure what I think of this story. It might be dirt, for all I know. The idea came to me in the middle of Latin class, and I just HAD to write it down, or my mind would have exploded. (That happens to me a lot.)**

Part 1

Boromir jerked back and stared in horror at the black arrow that had seemingly sprouted from his chest. With an animalistic cry, he swung his sword wildly, felling yet another Uruk.

He was shot yet again, falling to his knees before summoning all his strength and gstanding to his feet. A snarling Uruk came at him, and he killed it and two more besides. But the exertion coupled with a third bolt thudding into chest drove him down.

He knelt there as the horde of Uruk-hai swept on past him; he did not see them. His mind was back on that day when he left Minas Tirith for Imladris.

- FLASHBACK -

Boromir was standing alone on the very top level of the White Tower. He set his elbows on the stone balcony, looking out on the Fields of Pelennor. It was a good day for travel, he decided.

"Boromir!" He turned to see a ruddy-brown haired girl in a light blue dress runing towards him. He broke out in a smile when he saw her, and he caught her up in his arms.

"Eleníel!"

"I was so afraid that I would not have found you before you left!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

He smiled, putting a finger to her lips. "Shh. I do not want anybody to know that we are up here."

"Why not?" she asked, but lowered her voice anyways.

"Because many girls in this city wish to win my hand, when I have already pledged my heart to you." he answered, kissing her brow.

Eleníel giggled girlishly as he did this, but she sobered quickly. "I wish you did not have to leave." she said in a low voice.

"I wish I could stay here with you, too." Boromir replied quietly.

She looked up at him with worried eyes. "What if you do not come back?"

"I always come back." he answered, before touching his lips to hers.

- END FLASHBACK -

He was jerked back to reality by Aragorn screaming a war cry. The Dunédain tackled the lead Uruk, sending the arrow that had been aimed at Boromir's heart ricocheting harmlessly off the trees.

Suddenly overcome by exhaustion and blood loss, Boromir fell backwards, landing in the leafy loam. _I __am __sorry, __Eleniel, __my __love. __I __was __wrong. __I __will __not __be coming __back._ He saw her face in his mind's eye. That snow-white skin framed by that soft hair; those dark brown eyes; those rose-red lips, those perfect white teeth. He longed to touch her again, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her. But he knew it was over.

The image faded, and he opened his eyes to see Aragorn kneeling beside him, trying to take out the three black arrows. Boromir grasped Aragorn's hand, stopping it from moving. "Leave it. It is over." Aragorn slowly withdrew his hand as Boromir asked, "Frodo. Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go." Aragorn replied, looking him in the eyes.

Boromir smiled wanly. "Then you did what I could not." He felt around in the loam for his sword. It was not there.

Aragorn understood what he was looking for. He found the sword and placed it in Boromir's hand, clasping it to his chest.

"I left somebody behind in Minas Tirith…Eleníel, daughter of Thorondir. Tell her…that I am sorry…that I did not come back…tell her…that I loved her…with all my heart." Boromir gasped.

He grew still, and as the death rattle escaped his mouth, so did one word.

"Eleníel."

**I offer my sincerest apologies if you feel that Eleníel is a Mary-Sue. It's just how Boromir sees her. Aragorn, on the other hand, will see her quite differently.**


	2. Part 2

**Disclaimer: Um…see part 1.**

Part 2

The war was over. The Ring was destroyed. Sauron was gone forever. But Aragorn still had one more task.

He excused himself from the head table at the victory feast and mingled with the crowd. "Excues me, do you happen to know Eleníel daughter of Thorondir?" he asked countless times. Finally, he was directed to a girl standing out on the balcony, looking out at the fields. They were still brown, dotted with the burial mounds of all the Rohirrim, Dúnadain, and Gondorians that had died in that battle.

She must have heard him approaching, Aragorn thought, but she made no acknowledgement, not even when he stood beside her. Little did he know that this was the exact spot where Boromir had made his last farewells. He glanced at her face. She was stonily staring straight ahead. Her cheeks were wet with tears, as was her hair where the wind had blown her tears back.

Aragorn decided that she was not ugly, as far as maidens go, but not a stunning beauty either. Of course, his standards were high – the one that he loved was an Elf, and one whose beauty rivaled that of Lúthien herself at that.

After what seemed like an eternity, Eleníel turned to Aragorn. With a slight quaver in her voice, she asked, "What do you require from me, Aragorn son of Arathorn?"

"My lady." Aragorn said, inclining his head. "I came to convey Boromir's last words to you as he requested."

He was immensely surprised at her reaction. "What does it matter now?" she asked bitterly. "He is gone, and there is nothing I can do about it." But the waver in her voice said otherwise, and Aragorn detected this immediately.

"However you feel about it, I made a promise to Boromir. And I intend to keep it." he said sternly.

Eleníel sighed, a sigh that spoke volumes of longing for something impossible, but also a sigh of resignation. Still staring straight ahead, she nodded for him to continue.

Hesitantly, Aragorn began, "He wanted to tell you that he was sorry he did not come back like he said he would." He paused here, glancing at Eleníel, trying to gauge her mood. Sensing nother negative, he went on. "He also wanted to tell you that…" Aragorn teared up here and barely managed to gasp the rest of it out. "…he loved you with all his heart."

Whether Eleníel had responded to this or not, Aragorn didn't know. For he suddenly had a vision of the pain that his death would have caused Arwen had he been killed in the War of the Ring.

He saw Arwen in Imladris, lying on a bed, refusing all food and water, getting thinner and thinner, paler and paler. But by the grace of the Valar that had been imparted to her, she did not perish.

At last, he saw a procession of Elves carrying a bower out of Imladris into the surrounding woods. He saw them lay the bower down on a hill and walk sorrowfully away with their heads bowed.

He watched as the years went by, as the grass and flowers slowly crept up onto Arewn's body. And he watched in amazement as a mallorn sprang out on the top of that hill.

"My lord?" Now Eleníel was looking at him in concern. "My lord?"

"I am all right." Aragorn said. "If you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

She turned back to the wall, saying, "I thank you for coming to tell me."

Aragorn walked off, but he suddenly remembered something else. He came back, and as Eleníel glanced at him in surprise, he said simply, "His last word was 'Eleníel'. "

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